


Hold Onto Me

by Miko



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all they have left to hold onto is each other, how can they ever let go?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Onto Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a response to a Kinkmeme request for 'cuddling for warmth', and I just had to do it even though there were two excellent fills already. The chance to play with troll biology was too good to pass up. Warning for blatant cliches like you would not believe.
> 
> ETA: [Pretty fanart](http://dexteri.deviantart.com/#/d4kbrt7) from Dexteri!

" _Augh_ , what the fuck is this shit?"

Under less dire circumstances, the sight of Karkat hopping from one foot to the other like he was trying to find a way not to stand in the snow would have been hilarious. No, on second thought, it was actually pretty funny even though they were currently running for their lives. John had to clamp a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggle.

"Haven't you ever seen snow before, Karkat?" he asked curiously. He scooped up a handful, even though it was cold against his bare hands, and was delighted to find it was good packing snow.

Not that they had time to stop and make a snow fort, or even have a short snowball fight. Too bad, he was pretty sure Karkat could really use a little more fun in his life.

"Snow? Is that what this is?" Karkat grimaced, shaking his uplifted foot like he was trying to get the snow off without having to touch it. As if it mattered, since he would only have to set his foot right back down again. "It's fucking freezing."

"Well, yeah, pretty much by definition," John laughed. "Snow is frozen rain. Well, it's a little more complicated than that, since frozen rain is really sleet or hail, but that's the simple explanation. I guess you're from a tropical area? Where I lived on Earth, we had snow for a little while each year, but there are lots of places that have it for months and months!"

Karkat gave him a sour look. "Frozen rain. That is the most ridiculous thing I have heard in my entire life, and considering my unfortunate association with you, that's fucking saying something. There is no such thing anywhere on Alternia, I can tell you that much. If this is one of your nooksucking pranks, I swear I will bury you in this shit until you drown. Where the fuck are we?"

"Um... I think this is Jade's planet," John said, taking a quick look around. "The Land of Frost and Frogs, but before she lit the forge and the snow melted. I guess that makes sense." He bit his lip, trying not to think too hard about _why_ that made sense. The Witch of Space and the Knight of Time had sacrificed themselves, buying time by stalling Jack and using the their powers to send the last remaining survivors of the game far away in terms of both time and space. Of course Jade would have sent them to her own planet, where else would she have known well enough now that Prospit was destroyed?

And so John and Karkat were alone together, at least for as long as it took Jack to hunt them down and finish them off. John was almost certain they were in a doomed timeline - at least, he hoped they were, because if this was still the alpha timeline then the universe was well and truly fucked - but that didn't mean he wouldn't fight for every moment of life he could hold on to.

"We need to get to shelter, it n-never stops snowing and we'll both freeze to death," he said, glancing around. He was already shivering, his teeth starting to chatter. Maybe it was just as well that they didn't really have time for a snow fight. He rubbed at his arms, feeling gooseflesh prickle over the surface of his skin. Karkat didn't seem to be having similar trouble; he was just standing there, still making faces at the snow around his feet, but not shivering at all. Strange, if he was from a planet that was entirely tropical. Maybe his thick skin kept him from feeling the cold.

"I think there's a building over there," Karkat said, pointing. Straining his eyes to see through the fallen snow, John thought he could just barely make out a dark shape looming on the horizon. Impatient, he summoned the Breeze and blew the snow out of the way, giving him a momentarily clear view of Jade's frog temple in the far distance.

Karkat tackled him with a yell, and John went down hard in a tangle of flailing limbs. The snow broke their fall, thankfully, but he still got a sharp elbow in the gut and a smack to the face that might well leave him with a black eye. He wasn't entirely certain that Karkat hadn't done it on purpose.

"W-what was that for?" John cried out, scooping up some snow and holding it to his rapidly swelling eye.

"Have you misplaced your fucking think pan entirely? Are your brains just hanging out in the open, neurons firing everywhere and not connecting with anything else?" Karkat demanded. "The more you use your fucking powers, the faster that feathered asshole can track us. That's how he found us in the Veil in the first place!"

"Oh," John said, wincing. "Well, I d-didn't know that. How are we supposed to d-defend ourselves if we don't use our p-powers?" What _were_ Karkat's powers? He was a Knight like Dave, but what did Blood grant him?

"With our weapons, idiot, what else?" Karkat snarled back, picking himself up and shaking off the snow with a disgusted shudder. "You managed just fine before you got your stupid God Tier. Anyway there shouldn't be anything here we need to fight, if Strider sent us back far enough, the game hasn't started yet so the imps haven't invaded."

"Ahaha, right." John looked at the dim shape in the distance, and winced. "So, I g-guess that means we're walking. Well, at least the activity should k-keep us warm." He pushed himself to his feet and started off in the direction of the temple, slapping his hands against his arms and thighs in an attempt to stimulate bloodflow. Or something. He was sure he remembered reading that trick somewhere in one of his Scouts survival guides.

Karkat gave him a weird look, but shrugged and followed him. John tried to keep up a steady stream of light conversation, hoping to distract both of them from the weighty matters they were fleeing from. The way he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering didn't help. "S-so, I figure, our first order of b-business is to find shelter," he said, as cheerfully as he could manage. "Then we start progressing through the g-game, as if this was our f-first world. There won't be anything for us to f-fight, but we can start solving the p-p-p-puzzles."

"What? Why the fuck are we doing that?" Karkat asked, and John was a little envious to note that his teeth weren't chattering at all. He was hugging his arms against his chest, but still not shivering. Trolls really must be more resistant to the cold.

"I figure, our only ch-ch-chance of w-winning now is to b-beat the game properly," John explained. "There's s-so much we never had a ch-chance to d-do in our session, there j-just wasn't t-t-time. But if D-dave sent us b-back far enough, we should have all the t-time we n-need."

"If you change anything from the way it was when you arrived, you'll be creating a doomed timeline, idiot," Karkat exclaimed, aghast. "Are you trying to ensure we get killed?"

"K-karkat... I'm p-pretty sure w-we're already in a d-doomed timeline," John pointed out, as gently as he could.

"Oh." Karkat's voice was surprisingly quiet, and he looked pensive when John glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah. I guess you're right."

He didn't answer again after that, no matter how much John chattered at him. John figured he needed the space, so he kept his attention forward, resisting the urge to check over his shoulder every three seconds. However, he wasn't about to just let Karkat brood in silence without a reminder that he wasn't _alone_ , so John kept talking away, filling the silence with anything he could think of. To his dismay, the temple didn't seem to be getting much closer, even though it felt like they'd been walking forever. John couldn't feel his fingers and toes anymore, and he knew that wasn't good.

"Are you suuuuure we c-c-couldn't risk me using my p-powers just long enough to fly us to the t-temple?" he asked, trying not to whine. Wheedling was one thing, but whining was just not acceptable. Not when it was more important than ever that he be a good friendleader. "C'mon, Karkat, I'm sure he hasn't even r-r-realized we're back in my session yet."

There was still no answer. Frowning, John finally looked back over his shoulder. "Karkat? Are you n-not s-speaking to... _Karkat_?"

He was alone in the endless expanse of white. Wildly he looked all around, as if Karkat could somehow have flanked him or gotten in front of him, but there was nothing but snow no matter how hard he looked. The only difference in any direction was the deep imprint of his tracks - only his tracks, not Karkat's, and even those were being rapidly filled in.

Panicking, John started running back along his trail. How had they gotten separated? Was it the snow? But it wasn't falling _that_ heavily, it wasn't like Karkat wouldn't have been able to see him. Had Karkat deliberately abandoned him? But why would he do that? They were each all the other had left, now. Surely the troll understood that they _had_ to stick together, no matter what.

Thankfully he didn't have to go further than his tracks were still showing before he saw the dark blotch in the snow up ahead. Or back behind, since he was backtracking. John picked up his pace, swearing as the numb blocks of ice he called his feet made him stumble repeatedly over unseen obstacles hidden by the snow.

As he got closer he was able to make out the details of the blotch. Karkat was laid out full length in the snow on his back, one hand over his chest and the other flung up beside his head, fingers curled into a loose fist. The wind ruffled his hair and the ragged edge of his shirt, but he wasn't moving and the snow falling on him was already starting to pile up. If it was melting against his skin at all, John couldn't see it, and he had a sinking feeling that was a very bad sign.

"K-karkat!" he shouted as he crossed the last distance between them. He fell to his knees beside the troll, reaching out to shake the other boy by the shoulders. "Karkat, are y-you... oh my g-g-god." He flinched back from the icy cold of Karkat's skin. It didn't feel like he was any warmer than the snow around them. He didn't seem to be breathing, either. Frantically John held his hand in front of the troll's nose, then cursed when he realized his frozen fingers weren't going to be able to feel Karkat's breath.

Leaning over, he put his ear to the other boy's chest, and nearly sobbed in relief when he heard the faint, ragged beat of Karkat's heart. It sounded horribly slow, but for all John knew that was perfectly normal for trolls. Maybe Karkat's heart was beating _fast_ , he had no frame of reference to be able to tell.

He was pretty sure that lying unconscious in a snowfield was not a normal state for trolls, however.

Screw the possibility of Jack Noir finding them because of John using his powers. What good would it do him to stay hidden if Karkat died because of it? Scooping the troll up awkwardly in his arms, John summoned the Breeze.

Flying was something John was fairly certain he would never grow tired of, but at the moment his enjoyment was entirely eclipsed by his worry for Karkat. The troll huddled limply in his arms, legs and one arm dangling, the other arm squished between their bodies. There should have been a warm spot on John's front where Karkat's body rested against his, but Karkat was as cold as the Breeze around them.

It seemed to take forever to reach the ruins, though John had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't actually that long. Inside, out of the snow and wind, it was marginally warmer but the air was still cold. John ventured deeper inside, desperately seeking a source of heat, or at least a smaller room that would be a little cozier.

He had no success finding the former, but after considerable searching he finally discovered the latter. The small room was empty, his footsteps echoing off the walls even though the space was so small, but John had a sinking feeling it was the best he was going to find.

"C-c'mon, Karkat, t-time to... huh?" John got a pleasant surprise when he looked down. Karkat's eyes were still closed and he looked horribly pale despite his grey skin, but at some point he'd latched one hand in John's shirt, and tucked his head under John's chin, huddling in closer. Better yet, when John tried to set him down, Karkat made a disgruntled-sounding clicking noise and refused to let go.

That allowed John to calm down a little, taking a few deep breaths and forcing himself to think. He'd sat through plenty of survival lessons in Boy Scouts. What were you supposed to do to treat hypothermia?

Get the victim warm, of course. He was working on that. John didn't have any blankets, but he did have a sylladex full of random junk. He ejected the entire modus all at once, spewing objects all over the floor.

The huge pile of shoes and Barbasol cans looked tempting on the surface - trolls were always going on about their piles, weren't they? - but John rejected it as too cold and uncomfortable. The much smaller pile of the various outfits he'd alchemized seemed a better choice.

He laid the unconscious troll down in the pile, carefully prying loose Karkat's death grip on his shirt. Karkat growled, but eventually released him and curled up in the pile instead, still huddled in on himself. He looked pathetic, like a bedraggled and abused puppy.

What else? Remove the victim's wet clothes? Well, John was fairly certain that step was meant for people who'd fallen in a river or lake or something, but Karkat's clothes certainly weren't _dry_ after lying in the snow like that.

"Please don't wake up and kill me, please don't wake up and kill me," John chanted between teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. Gingerly he pulled Karkat's shirt off, disentangled himself once again from the clingy troll, and then reached for Karkat's pants.

There he hesitated, caught between the strong need to help his friend, and powerful embarrassment at the thought of _undressing another guy_. A guy he barely knew in real life, for all that Karkat had been talking to him online for years. They'd only had a few hours' worth of conversation in total, when you thought about it. And...

John smacked himself on the cheek, hard enough to really sting. What was he doing, fretting and stalling over his embarrassment while his friend was _dying_?

"No homo," he muttered to himself as he fought the battle between the pants fastenings and his numb and shaking fingers. "Totally no homo, dude, you're saving his life, you don't get any less homo than that. Right? Right."

Having finally defeated both himself and the pants, John started to pull them down over Karkat's hips. He yelped in surprise and pain as a set of wicked claws introduced themselves forcefully to his bare wrist. Looking up, he saw that Karkat was awake, a soft warning growl spilling from between his lips.

Well, sort of awake. His eyes were barely open, and from what John could see of his pupils it didn't look like he was focusing properly. Fuck, he might not even be able to tell that it was John leaning over him. Small wonder he was growling.

The sound changed, becoming a series of clicks and hissing noises that John belatedly realized might be speech. "Uh, Karkat?" John replied, trying not to sound nervous. Predators could smell fear or something, couldn't they? If trolls didn't count as predators, John didn't know what did. "Karkat, it's me, John."

Karkat's scowl deepened, and he said something else in his weird, grating language. From the tone, John guessed it was an insult that ended in a question. Assuming Alternian used the same lift in tone at the end of a sentence to indicate a question, of course. For all John knew, it could have been an order.

"John Egbert?" he tried helpfully. "The human? You know, who doesn't _speak Alternian_?"

The scowl briefly flashed to an annoyed look, and Karkat cleared his throat. "What. The ever-pitying. _Fuck_. Are you doing?" His voice was hoarse and raspy, the words overlaid by a sort of buzz that John didn't think any human would be able to reproduce.

"Ummm... I'm undressing you?" John nearly squeaked.

"Yeah, I figured that much out by myself, fuckass," Karkat snarled. " _Why_."

"To warm you up?" John fervently wished Karkat would let go of his wrist, so he could pull away. Right now he was stuck with his hands on the troll's pants, which were halfway down his hips, and it was really kind of awkward.

"How is taking my clothes _off_ supposed to make me warmer?"

"Because they're wet, and that means it will take that much more heat to warm you, because the water will absorb part of it," John babbled. "I think. Or maybe because it evaporates and that cools you off more, just like sweat does? I don't know, I just know you're supposed to strip someone suffering from hypothermia if they're in wet clothes!"

Karkat wrinkled his nose, like he was trying to puzzle through John's words. Or maybe he just smelled something bad. He seemed marginally more alert now, his eyes open enough that John could see more than just tiny slivers of gold, but he was obviously still sluggish. "Fine, whatever," he finally muttered. "I don't see how that's supposed to help, but if nothing else the dampness is fucking cold. But I can do it myself!"

He pushed John's hand away and finally released it. John cradled it gingerly against his chest, checking it surreptitiously and wincing when he saw five bleeding puncture marks in his skin. It was nothing compared to some of the wounds he'd taken during the game - even if he didn't count the two times he'd died so far - but it still hurt.

Watching Karkat fumble and curse at the pants, John wasn't actually sure the troll _could_ do it himself. But he decided that discretion was definitely the better part of valour, as his dad would say, and he turned away so he wouldn't be staring so obviously.

At least his own clothes weren't wet, other than his shoes and socks which he quickly shed. Feeling was starting to return to his extremities, which was both a good and a bad thing - good, because it meant he probably didn't actually have frostbite and wouldn't have to worry about losing fingers and toes, but bad because it _hurt_. A _lot_.

John turned back to find that Karkat had apparently finished stripping, because his pants and underwear had been dumped on top of his t-shirt. Not that John could tell by looking at Karkat, because the troll had burrowed into the pile of clothes, covering most of his body, though John could see random flashes of grey skin here and there.

"You're still not shivering," John realized, frowning. "That's a really bad sign, I think. How did you get so cold, so fast? And why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know, by the time I realized how bad it was, I was already in the middle of passing out," Karkat muttered, hiding his face against one of John's suit jackets. "What's 'shivering'?"

"You know, shivering, like I'm doing right now," John said, mystified. Usually the only words Karkat didn't understand were proper nouns, or terms that just didn't have an equivalent in troll culture. But surely they must have a word to describe shivering.

"What, you mean the way you're shaking in terror?" Karkat snorted, and lifted his head just enough to glare at John. "Sorry, grubsucker, I'm angry, not scared. Noir can suck my soft, squirming bulge; I'm going to kill that nookwiffer so hard he won't even have time to realize he's dead."

"I'm not scared, I'm cold," John retorted, stung that Karkat thought he was trembling in _fear_. "It's got nothing to do with Jack, it's just my body trying to warm itself up."

"Why would wasting energy moving around like a spastic freak make you _warmer_?" Karkat asked in disbelief. "The hell kind of fucked-up anti-survival reflex is that? Energy is heat; if you're cold you should be shutting down to conserve it as much as possible!"

"Wait." Now it was John's turn to wrinkle his nose in puzzlement. "Are trolls cold-blooded?" That was what reptiles did when they got cold, wasn't it? Went into... torpor, that was the word.

" _No_ , what kind of ridiculous question is that? Why the fuck would our blood be a different temperature from the rest of our bodies?" Karkat snapped.

"No, no, I mean..." Frowning, John tried to find another way to put it. "Does your body temperature depend on your surroundings? I mean, completely, not just influenced by it?"

"Why would you even... oh fuck, right, you're _mammals_ ," Karkat cut himself off. He said 'mammals' like most people would say 'filthy disgusting sewer dredge'. "Yes, trolls are ectotherms, which I assume is what you meant by the quaint and completely fucking nonsensical term 'cold-blooded', just like all superior species should be. How the fuck you manage to survive when your every bodily function depends on you keeping yourself within such a short temperature range..."

"Hey, I'm not the one who collapsed in the snow before he even realized what was happening," John shot back, rolling his eyes.

"I've never been in conditions nearly that cold before, how was I supposed to know how fast it would hit me?" Karkat protested.

"At least you seem to be doing a little better," John said, placating. He figured it was probably not a good idea for them to get into a fight right now. Both of them were on edge, tempers were sharp and the situation was desperate, but they _needed_ each other to survive.

"Yeah, though whatever that heat source you had near me earlier was, I wish you'd bring it back," Karkat mumbled. "It's better in here than out there, but it's still really fucking cold. If I fall asleep I'm afraid I won't wake up again. Not that I want to _sleep_ , fuck, that's all I need, dreams of the fucking horrorterrors to cap this night off."

"Heat source?" John blinked, baffled. "There wasn't any heat source. I wish! You were so cold it was like holding an ice block to my chest when I was carrying you. Believe me, if there was a source of heat here, we'd be using it."

"Well _something_ sure as fuck felt warmer than I was," Karkat insisted. "I was pretty out of it, but I remember that much, and it still feels like one side of me is warmer than the other."

"Oh. Uh... Karkat, I think the heat source was _me_ ," John realized, torn between embarrassment and laughter. "You were clinging to me pretty tight when I tried to put you down, that's for sure. And I guess I would feel warm to you, even though _I_ feel like I'm frozen half to death."

"You?" Karkat stared at John for a moment, before he buried his face once more. The pointed tips of his ears flushed a dull pink, which John thought was fascinating. "Right. Fucking _mammal_. For your information I was not clinging, I was just... just..."

"Clutching?" John suggested helpfully, stifling a snicker. "Glomming on to me? Snuggling up? Cuddling?"

"Shut the fuck up, fuckass, I wouldn't do any of those things if my life depended on it," Karkat yelled at him, and now his ears were red instead of pink.

"Your life kinda did depend on it," John pointed out cheerfully. He flopped down into the clothes pile, since it was the only comfortable place in the room, though he stayed carefully out of Karkat's reach. Just in case he decided that physical retaliation would be a good reaction to John's teasing. "Any and all of those words are an accurate description of what you were doing. So does that mean you don't want the 'heat source' back after all?"

"Fuck you, I'm fine," Karkat said. "Never better, in fact. The only thing that would make this situation even more perfect is if you'd shut your spewing word hole before you say something so inane the entire universe implodes due to the sheer mass of stupidity."

"Uh-huh." John grinned to himself. Dealing with Karkat in real life was turning out to be not nearly as annoying as putting up with his text rants. For one thing, there was the added amusement of watching his face go through various constipated-looking expressions of frustration and anger.

For another, it was easier to see beneath the bluster to the vulnerability beneath, when he could actually hear Karkat's voice and see the look in his eyes.

They laid there quietly for a few minutes, with only the sound of their breathing to break the somewhat awkward silence. Karkat's breathing sounded kind of shallow to John, and a little ragged, but like the heartbeat issue John had no way of knowing what was 'normal'.

Worse, it was slowing down even as he listened, and he was afraid it was because the room seemed to be chilling further. John wasn't sure if it was actually getting colder or if he was just noticing it more because he wasn't moving, but now that he knew trolls were cold-blooded he was really worried about how well Karkat would be able to handle prolonged low temperatures.

"Karkat?" he finally ventured, trying not to sound tentative. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay like that? It feels like it's getting colder, maybe the sun went down or something. Does the sun set here?"

Karkat didn't answer for long enough that John started to fret, and when he did speak he sounded oddly sluggish and weak. "I said I'm fine, fuckass. I don't need your help."

"No, of course you don't need it. That doesn't mean you can't take it anyway. C'mon, I'm so soft and squishy it's pitiful, even half dead you'd be able to beat me," John coaxed, thinking it might be the prospect of vulnerability that was eating at Karkat.

The troll sputtered incoherently for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Are you fucking hitting on me? What happened to your stupid homosexual thing?"

" _What_?" John blushed horribly, eyes going wide. Frantically he reviewed what he'd just said, but he couldn't find anything in his words that could be taken as a come on. "No, when did I ever do that?"

"Talking about how fucking pitiful you are, like you're advertising," Karkat snapped. "That was so blatant you just embarrassed everyone on the fucking planet."

Groaning, John buried his face in his hands. He was so used to side-stepping the potential for Karkat's weird hate-love that he'd forgotten about the equally bizarre pity-love trolls had. Honestly, there needed to be a 'Field Guide to Not Hitting On Trolls' or something. Maybe he would write one, if they survived this. He'd probably have plenty of experience with the topic by then.

Then he started laughing despite himself. "I guess I did, seeing as 'everyone on the planet' is only you and me anyway."

"In the fucking Medium, then," Karkat replied. "There're probably Dersites and Prospitians blushing themselves to death right now, aren't you proud of yourself? You started killing them off before the game even begins."

"Seriously, though, _I'm_ freezing, so you must be worse," John insisted. "Sharing body heat is like, the most important step according to the survival guides. And even if you don't have any heat to share, once you absorb mine you'll warm up too, and then I'll benefit, right?" Reminding himself that there was absolutely nothing homosexual about saving your best bro from freezing, John swallowed his pride and finished with a soft, "Please?"

"Oh, _fine_ ," Karkat grumbled. "If you're going to whine about it like a particularly retarded lusus deprived of treats. Get the fuck over here, then."

Quickly John scrambled up and into the heart of the pile, before Karkat could change his mind. It only took him a moment to dig his way down through the clothes to the middle where the troll was huddled. John gasped as his hand brushed some part of Karkat's body, and he realized all over again how cold the other boy was. No wonder Karkat sounded sluggish. How could any living thing be that cold and survive?

He hadn't even settled before he found himself with an abrupt armful of frozen troll. Despite his protests, Karkat clutched at him frantically, squirming to try to get as much of his body in contact with John's as he could.

"Shit, why are you so fucking warm, it's not fair," Karkat groaned. The words were a little muffled by the way he had his face tucked into the curve of John's neck. Even his breath where it gusted across John's skin felt cool.

"Mammal," John reminded him, trying not to shiver. It was like snuggling up to an ice statue. That, plus the desperation in Karkat's grip, told him the situation was still pretty deadly serious no matter what the troll was protesting to the contrary. "Uh, it would probably work even better if I wasn't clothed," he added reluctantly. Stripping was going to make him feel a lot colder, especially since it would mean more skin-to-icy-skin contact. Not to mention his embarrassment levels would go through the roof.

"Whatever, then why are you still dressed?" Karkat muttered. Giving in to the inevitable, John started squirming out of his God Tier clothes. Karkat backed off grudgingly for exactly as long as it took John to strip, and then he was back like a determined limpet.

As John had feared, Karkat felt even colder against him without the thin barrier of cloth. He found he didn't actually mind as much as he'd expected to, especially when Karkat made a strange little chirping noise and huddled close.

For the first time, John thought he was starting to understand the notion of pity as a form of love. Karkat was just so pathetic and helpless at the moment, it made John want to coddle and take care of him.

It was more like the sort of affection you might feel for a pet, but it was still affection.

He rubbed Karkat's back, figuring that encouraging blood circulation was still a good thing. And hey, if Karkat found it comforting, bonus. It seemed like the troll was slowly warming up, at least. He now felt less like a block of ice and more like a bucket of freezing water.

Realizing Karkat's probable reaction to being compared to a bucket of anything, John snickered. "What?" Karkat demanded irritably, but John shook his head and refused to answer. Some things Karkat was better off not knowing.

It actually felt kind of nice to have Karkat curled up against him. The troll's body was lean and smooth, his skin felt tough without being hard, and despite the fact that he was supposedly at the same point in development as John, there were muscles clearly defined in his limbs and torso.

How ripped would Karkat be as an adult? He would make a great action movie star. John could totally picture Karkat starring alongside Nic Cage, maybe as a pair of mercenaries or cops or something, gruff and angry but with a heart of pure shining gold. That would be the most epic movie _ever_.

Karkat shifted against him, and John realized he'd been dozing off. Apparently he was more tired than he'd thought, but he didn't really want to sleep. He wasn't ready to face Dave and Jade in a dream bubble just yet, didn't want to see his friends with glassy, empty white eyes and know that they'd died to save him.

Although he probably wouldn't be able to see Dave's eyes as usual, he would still know they were there.

"Stop fucking squirming, grubtard," Karkat mumbled, hitching himself a little closer. His words were slurred, and for a moment John was concerned until he realized that Karkat didn't feel that cold against him anymore. Just drowsiness, then.

"You're squirming more than I am," John replied. "Or... something. What are you even _doing_?" he asked, mystified. Both of Karkat's arms were around his neck, but _something_ was shifting against his hip.

Karkat went tense and breathless, and then shoved John away abruptly. John sputtered a protest as cold air rushed into the space between them, making him shiver again. "Karkat, what the hell? We were just starting to get warm!"

"It's warm enough, neither of us is going to die," Karkat said, keeping his face turned away as he huddled into a ball. He still looked wretchedly miserable to John.

"Don't be silly, you'll only get cold again if you're not against me," John said, reaching out to him. Karkat batted his hand away with a swipe of claws and a growl, and John regarded him with astonishment. "What is your problem all of a sudden?"

"Nothing," Karkat practically yelled into the clothes. John just continued to stare at him, and after a long pause Karkat groaned. "You are the stupidest pail licker on any planet in any universe in any timeline, _ever_. Your think pan is so empty it's created a vacuum, sucking in every iota of intelligence until everyone around you will be rendered as stupid as you are. Do I have to fucking spell it out for you? WHAT OTHER BODY PART IN THAT VICINITY WOULD BE MOVING?"

"Uh..." John's brain shorted out and refused to process the answer, even though it was painfully obvious what Karkat had to be talking about. "It... it moves?" he finally managed to squeak out.

"Wha... yes, obviously, how else would you... _no_ , fuck this and fuck you, I am _not_ having this conversation with you," Karkat cut himself off. "I don't _want_ to know how horrifically grotesque your mammalian body really is."

John honestly couldn't decide if he felt violated or curious. Karkat's dick... well, bulge... had been... _squirming_ against him... He shuddered.

There was no homo involved in sharing body heat with your best bro to survive, John reminded himself. It was just for survival. It didn't matter if said bro's alien tentacle dick got a bit frisky in the process, because... because... yeah, there was no way he was going to justify that as anything but gay.

No, no, wait. They were both teenagers, they were in a life or death situation, and a naked body was a naked body. Of course it was natural to react like that. It was like, a biological imperative to get off after facing down death; everybody knew that, they used it in the movies all the time. It wasn't _him_ specifically that Karkat was reacting to, just the situation. Yeah, that was it.

Taking a deep breath, John gathered every bit of mangrit he possessed. A true hero wouldn't let a bit of embarrassment come between him and saving a friend. "Turn around," he ordered as firmly as he could. "Now that your front is warmed, we should do your back." And that would put them in a position less embarrassing for both of them.

Karkat turned his head enough to peer at John with one eye. What John could see of his expression looked incredulous, but after a moment it turned to weary resignation. Without a word, Karkat rolled over and presented his back to John, who slid forward to meet him.

Wrapping himself around Karkat from behind was still awkward, but not as much as cuddling up from the front again would have been. Karkat's back was indeed cold, though not anywhere near as bad as he'd been to start with.

Unfortunately, only now did John realize that Karkat wasn't the only one reacting viscerally to the situation. Definitely to the situation, not to the knowledge that Karkat was aroused. Definitely. Swallowing hard, John carefully arranged himself so that his hips weren't actually touching Karkat.

"What the fuck are you doing, nookwhiff?" Karkat grumbled. "If you're gonna make me do this, you can fucking well do it right."

"No, don't," John exclaimed, but it was too late; Karkat had wriggled backwards to close the gap between them, and now John's dick was pressed up against the troll's firmly muscled ass.

They both froze. John took tiny, shallow breaths, trying not to move at all. If Karkat was breathing, John couldn't feel it.

"John, are you..." Karkat said, his voice wavering.

"Um. It's just a reflex?" John said, laughing weakly.

"What happened to your fucking homosexual thing?" Karkat demanded. His volume was rising, but the quiver in his voice was still there. John wished he could tell what was causing it.

"It's the situation!" John protested. He was blushing so hard he was surprised the room hadn't turned downright tropical from the heat generated by his face.

"Yeah, the situation of being naked and rubbing up against someone you have mating fondness for, idiot," Karkat snapped. He still wasn't moving, which at least meant he wasn't making it worse but it also meant he wasn't moving _away_.

"No, that's not... it isn't..." John stammered, not even certain what he was trying to say. He wasn't attracted to Karkat. It wasn't like he'd ever paid any attention to Karkat physically... well, except for admiring the feel of his muscled body against him earlier. And imagining how rugged Karkat would look as an adult. But that was the same as his appreciation for Nic Cage, which was totally no homo no matter what Dave said about his man-crush.

"John," Karkat said, and he sounded strained. "We are the last living members of our respective races, outside of the time fuckery that means we're currently existing before your world was destroyed. Does it really _matter_?"

Did it really matter if he was attracted to another guy, or just aroused by the situation and a biological reflex? Would he really _be_ reacting if he truly, honestly wasn't attracted to Karkat in the least?

There was literally nobody left to care who John liked or didn't like, and why. Nobody to tease him, good-natured or otherwise. Nobody except the two of them.

If they could feel good and find comfort in each other for a little while, was that such a bad thing?

"Karkat..." John's voice caught in his throat, and he couldn't get any other words out.

Thankfully it seemed like Karkat understood him anyway. "Yeah," he said, and reached up and back to catch the nape of John's neck, his claws scraping the sensitive skin as he pulled John closer.

John shuddered and hid his face against Karkat's shoulder, even though the other boy already couldn't see him. It was more so that _John_ couldn't see _Karkat_ , so he could just concentrate on the way Karkat felt against him instead of over-thinking everything and freaking himself out.

Karkat hissed and rolled his hips back against John's erection. It felt good, amazing, and John couldn't stop himself from rubbing against Karkat in return.

His innate sense of fairness pinged him, telling him that he was getting a lot more out of this than Karkat was. Trying not to think about what he was doing, John slid his hand down over Karkat's chest. Despite himself he marvelled at the way he could feel the play of muscles under Karkat's cool skin. Yeah, totally no homo. Right. Who was he kidding?

Karkat's hand tightened on his neck as John approached his groin, and the troll was making little drawn-out chirping noises that were slowly rising in pitch. He was trembling, which was actually kind of hot, and _whoa holy shit that was not a dick_.

John froze again, panicking for a moment as Karkat's bulge twined around his hand. The chirps turned into a whining keen that made his teeth ache, and it sounded like Karkat was having trouble breathing.

Staying still was not making John's body very happy with him. Finally he disengaged his brain and let it run in little circles on its own while instinct took over. He rocked his hips into Karkat again, and carefully stroked the fragile-feeling flesh beneath his fingertips.

That seemed to be the right thing to do, as Karkat's tremors turned to outright shuddering. Growing a little bolder, John explored the surprising length of it, both turned on and weirded out by the feel of the squirming flesh. The noises he drew from Karkat grew increasingly heated, which in turn sent fire running through John's veins to concentrate in his groin, until he couldn't imagine how they'd ever needed to worry about being too cold.

"Fffffuuuck, Johnnnn," Karkat warbled, apparently having trouble getting the words out. "I need, fuck, p-pail..."

Oh right, trolls and their weird pail fetish. Luckily John always kept an extra bucket or two in his sylladex, just in case he encountered a particularly enticing doorway. He could just see them on the floor on the other side of the room, half hidden by the shoe pile.

Karkat's keening was rising in intensity and urgency, but John really didn't want to get up and go all the way over there. That would give him too much time to start to think, and anyway he kind of thought he might die if he had to stop rocking up against Karkat. Stretching out his free hand, he managed to focus long enough to summon the Breeze to push the buckets towards them.

The noise that Karkat made when the empty pail rattled over the floor was absolutely indescribable. The desperate, needy whine went straight to John's dick, and he moaned in response. Finally his fingers closed around the handle, and he yanked it closer so he could pass it to Karkat.

The troll let go of John's neck to literally snatch the pail out of his grasp. Panting, Karkat shoved it down between his legs. Not three seconds later he cried out and went rigid, his bulge tightening around John's hand, and John heard the sound of liquid splashing in the plastic pail.

The sound was surprisingly erotic, though that might have been due more to the way Karkat was reacting. Only when he was sure Karkat was finished, the troll hunched over the bucket and shaking, did John finally disentangle his hand from Karkat's bulge and bring it to his hip instead. With that anchor to steady them both, he started rutting in earnest against Karkat's ass.

After a moment Karkat reached back with one hand to grab at his neck again. This time when his claws dug in it didn't hurt, it felt _amazing_. That was the last little bit John needed to push him over the edge, and he came with a harsh cry.

For while afterwards he clung to Karkat, breath sobbing in his lungs and his whole body shivering with something other than the cold. He held onto the afterglow as hard as he could, not wanting to face the reality of what he'd just done.

"Stop it," Karkat said, his voice harsh but his touch on John's neck now surprisingly gentle.

"Huh?" John replied, not sure what he was supposed to be stopping.

"Quite _thinking_ so hard, fuckass," Karkat elaborated with a put-upon sigh. "I can hear the rusty gears squeaking in your think pan so loud it's giving me a headache, too. Stop trying to figure out if this is fucking 'homosexual' or not, and I won't worry about whether it's supposed to count as red or black. It just _is_. Deal?"

Despite his obvious efforts to sound scathing, there was a note of uncertainty in Karkat's voice. Realizing that the other boy was just as thrown off by what they'd done made John feel oddly better about it. "Deal," he agreed hoarsely.

Karkat squeezed his neck once more, then released him to squirm around so they were facing each other. He must have captchalogged the bucket or something, because there was no sign of it now. Karkat wrapped his arms around John's chest, and John returned the favour, tucking Karkat's head under his chin and curling around him.

"We'd better find a different planet to start playing through, unless you wanna have to stop to warm me up every fucking five minutes," Karkat grumbled against his chest.

John couldn't stop a smile from springing to his lips. "Might not be so bad," he admitted. "You're surprisingly cuddly."

Karkat went tense, then relaxed again. "Whatever. Grubfucker. You're just disgustingly squishy. And _warm_ ," he added fervently, snuggling a little closer.

Red or black, homo or no homo... maybe it really didn't matter. John felt like he wasn't _alone_ , and that meant more than anything else possibly could right now.


End file.
